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That towel wasn’t meant for a woman as tall as Vanessa. It hung low on her breasts and high on her mile-long thighs. And they could talk from now till tomorrow but he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on one word because the need to touch her—to have her—was sending him out of his mind.

So he shoved everything else aside. The past. Her anger. Even his pride. And he laid it on the line.

“Come to my bed, V. Be my woman tonight.”

Chapter 4

For the second time in minutes, Stan Jackson sent Vanessa into complete shock. Because things had been going along so normally…they’d been talking, dealing with old wounds, saying sorrys. And then he’d hit her where she was most vulnerable.

Right in her quivering libido.

How the man knew she’d been standing here an oversexed mess, she’d never know. Maybe she hadn’t done as good a job as she’d thought of hiding her reaction to his suggestion that she didn’t “have to get dressed.”

They’d talked for a few minutes beyond that, but the words had kept bouncing around in her head. Through the explanations. Through the apologies.

Until now, when this sex-on-a-stick man had asked her into his bed.

“V?” He reached for her, touching her cheek with his fingers, then cupping it.

She couldn’t resist turning into that touch, pressing her lips to the palm, shivering at the strength of that calloused hand. “That would be crazier than anything else I’ve done tonight,” she whispered.

“Aren’t you curious?” he asked, stepping closer, so his arm brushed hers, his shirt scraped the towel. So his breath drifted against her skin and his handsome face filled her vision. “Don’t you want to see, for just one night, how it could be, now that we’re both older and know how to make it…mmm…good.”

“So good,” she mumbled, knowing it would be.

“I’ve been dying to lick my way from your toes all the way up to the top of those thighs.”

The thighs in question wobbled.

“Press my face into your stomach and breathe you in.”

The stomach quivered.

“Suck your nipples hard, until you beg me to stop and threaten to hurt me if I do.”

Oh, she was so there already. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples scraping against the terry cloth, which was soft and yet rough enough to give her a wicked thrill.

Stan bent to kiss her temple. “I could kiss you for hours.”

“Stan…”

“Starting with your lips. Then on down your body until I get to do one thing you and I were too inexperienced to try.”

She knew exactly what he was talking about and her pussy clenched reflexively, knowing this man’s tongue would be as magical as his hands…his voice.

“You will let me taste you, baby, won’t you? Don’t turn a starving man away.”

She sagged against him and he caught her hips, holding her steady. This time, when the towel fell, there was no doubt how it came down. He unfastened the twist above her right breast with two fingers and sent the thing plunging to the floor.

“I’ll make you feel things you never dreamed possible.”

“Right back at you,” she whispered, finally accepting the inevitable. They were going to spend the night in Stan’s bed. She had not one twinge of regret at the realization. Whatever had happened before, whatever happened next, for now she was going to make love to the man she wanted…who had once been the boy she’d loved.

He smiled at her confidence, glancing down at her. She was no longer wet from her shower, her whole body was smooth and supple. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Reaching for the top button of his shirt, she slowly unfastened it. “Let me see what you got, big man.”

“If I look half as good to you as you do to me, V, we are both gonna be very happy people.”

She laughed softly at the compliment cloaked in arrogance, then finished unbuttoning the shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. Then she had to stop. Just stop. And look at the glory of the male body revealed before her.

“My, have you grown up,” she muttered, stunned at the amount of muscle on the man. His arms were massive, his pecs so